Fools Like Us
by ChairThief
Summary: A wealthy visitor comes to Sodor; with glittering promises of grandeur, she entices Henry into leaving with her. But he soon discovers that not everyone is who they say they are, and sometimes friends can be found in the unlikeliest of places.
1. Visitor

Henry was not a happy engine. He hadn't been feeling well for days, and now even though he was feeling better, it seemed as if there was no work for him to do. Everyone seemed to have everything taken care of; so his driver suggested they visit the other stations and see if anyone needed assistance. But whenever he pulled into a station with the intention of helping, it always seemed to be "No thanks Henry!" or "Oh I already finished, why don't you ask Thomas?" Or James. Or Percy. Or Edward. It was evening by the time sir Topham Hatt found him sulking in the shed. Gordon and James were with him.

"How can I be a useful engine if there's nothing here for me to do?" He complained.

"Feh, as if you were to begin with- what engine can be useful when it keeps breaking down all the time." Gordon hissed, feeling a little snappy after having been the one to pick up the slack when Henry was ill.. But even still, he couldn't deny there was a little too much slack lately. But he dismissed the thought in favour of getting some rest, pulling back further into the shed and getting comfortable. Meanwhile, Henry was cross- it wasn't his fault that he sometimes felt unwell. If he had the choice, he'd rather never be sick. He didn't have much time to think on it though, as this was about the moment that sir Topham Hatt approached them.

"I need someone to pick up a very special visitor tomorrow morning. She's come all the way from across the sea, and I want us to make a good first impression." He announced, straightening his coat and surveying the three who were present, as if already deciding who was going to recieve the honor. Gordon wasn't sleepy anymore.

"Surely you want me to take this job- who better to make a good first impression than the finest engine on the island?" He smirked condescendingly as he pulled forward again just a bit, poking his nose just outside of the shed's doors.

"I'll tell you who; the /real/ finest engine on the island. Look at you, you're a disgrace. Dirt and soot everywhere. My shiny new coat of paint is clearly the winning selection." James interjected vainly and shot Gordon an arrogant glare.. To which Gordon's reply was a equally nasty glare. Henry, who was in the middle, felt even more uncomfortable and attempted to slink back into the shed so they could bicker without him being in the way. However he stopped when sir Topham Hatt spoke.

"With attitudes like that, I choose neither of you. Henry, be up early in the morning and get a good washdown, I think you will cut a fine figure to greet our visitor." He said. Henry beamed, glad to be useful at last! And this was an important job- surely if he did well this time, he would recieve more important jobs in the future.

"Y-yes sir! Thank you sir!" He replied. After sir Topham Hatt had left, Henry gave both Gordon and James, who were feeling quite sour indeed, a triumphant smile and backed into the shed to get some rest.

The following morning, Henry was up and about, even before the sun had risen. He was very excited for his important job and hoped everything would go as well as possible. He'd just crept out of the sheds and was on his way to get washed when he was joined by Percy. Percy and Thomas ran the mail delivery service on Sodor and were often up early before anyone else was.

"Hullo Henry, where are you off to so early?" He asked pleasantly, puttering along beside the larger engine. Henry looked over at him.

"Sir Topham Hatt has chosen me to greet a very important visitor, I don't have much time to talk though, I need to get washed and pick up the coaches." And he hurried on. A nice washing first thing in the morning was just what he needed to be awake and alert, and, feeling quite fine indeed, he puffed along to the station where his passenger was supposed to be waiting. By that time the sun was peeking over the horizon and the cool morning mist had begun to dissipate. When they arrived at the station, the visitor didn't seem to be there yet, so Henry took a few minutes to relax and enjoy the sunrise. After scooting around in the frosty air, the sunlight felt wonderful, and made his shiny green coat look even more wonderful to boot.  
He had just closed his eyes, basking quite luxuriously in the warmth when,

"Oh my, what a /lovely/ green engine. Oh doesn't he just look splendid." It was a woman's voice. Henry opened his eyes.

"Th-thank you ma'am!" He managed to stutter, looking over in surprise and briefly studying the woman who had made the exclamation. He was surprised by what he saw. She looked to be rather young, with pale skin and short blonde hair tucked under a small black hat, which was festooned with feathers and beads. It matched her equally black dress and shawl.. And despite the fact that she appeared for all the world to be wheelchair bound, this didn't seem to limit her, as her green eyes were quick and clever.. And right now, they were locked on Henry, in a nearly predatory fashion. But even as that stood, her expression itself was that of absolute delight.

"I take it you're the one to be my escort? I'm to be meeting with a Mr. Hatt this morning." She said, wheeling a bit closer. Her informal nature surprised him. He was so used to Sir Topham Hatt being addressed with reverent tones and an excessive amount of "Sir" this and "Sir" that. It was almost a bit comical to hear him being called 'Mr. Hatt'.

"Oh yes, of course." Henry replied eagerly. "I'll have you from here to there in no time at all." The woman smiled brightly and thanked the two porters who had brought her luggage aboard and were now coming over to help her into the coach that hd been spifed up specifically for this occassion. When all seemed in order, Henry's driver gave him an appreciative pat.

"Alright Henry, let's show our guest who's the timliest engine on the island!" They then set off, chugging down the track at an excellent pace. Henry felt so fine, he was sure a morning had never been so splendid. He passed Gordon along his way, and let loose a cheerful whistle, to which Gordon whistled in return.  
When they had reached their destination, Henry's passenger disembarked from the coach and wheeled up to talk to him again immediately.

"What a pleasant ride that was, Mr. Hatt is a very fortunate man to have such a wonderfully useful engine in his service. What's your name?" She asked. Henry posetively beamed with pride- if there was one thing any engine could never get enough of, it was praise for a job well done.

"Henry, sir-er, ma'am!" He corrected himself immediately, flushing in embarassment. The woman laughed aloud.

"Well it's a pleasure to meet you, my name is Charlotte." She looked him over once more with her sharp gaze.. And Henry, despite how pleased he was, couldn't help but feel vaguely uncomfortable. He forced himself to keep smiling, but it was truth that no one studied engines that closely unless they were either inspecting them for the scrapyard, or looking to buy.. And he didn't much care for either of those possibilities. Luckily, a familiar booming voice interrupted their exchange.

"Excellent timing, I had just arrived. I hope your ride was an agreeable one." Sir Topham Hatt had been waiting to greet his visitor, and her attention was drawn away as he approached. They shook hands amiably.

"Indeed it was, perhaps soon I might see if I can't take another ride around the island- after we've discussed what business I'm here for, of course." And the two of them moved away, chatting politely. Henry watched them go, then looked to his driver who was getting ready to hop back in.

"Come along Henry, we have other things to do today." He said, and they chuffed away.


	2. Rumors

That evening, the sheds were abuzz with chatter. Thomas and Percy were eager to hear all about Henry's special job- though Gordon and ames were still cross and refused to talk about it.. Or to eachother. Henry knew they must have quarreled about it and smirked to himself.

"Oh please tell us about the visitor." Thomas pleaded. "What were they like? What are they here for?" Percy immediately chimed in right after Thomas was finished.

"Yes, please tell us, I've been so curious ever since you told me where you were going this morning." Henry had to hold back a laugh at their almost too-eager expressions. He couldn't blame them, this was likely the most interesting thing that had happened in over a month. He took his time though, casting a glance over at Gordon and James, who looked away immediately, forcing themselves to frown again- truthfully they were /just/ as interested as Thomas and Percy, but were more hesitant to show it.

"Well, I went to greet her at the station, and we exchanged a word or two- she's really quite nice. Her name is Charlotte, and from what I've been told, she lives across the sea, and traveled a long way to get here." He said, but Thomas didn't seem satisfied with this answer.

"But why is she here?" He asked, a little impatiently. Percy seemed to share the sentiment.

"I don't know for sure.. She never said, and Sir Topham Hatt never told me." Henry replied, and Thomas wrinkled his nose a bit.

"That's strange." He mumbled, exchanging a suspicious glance with Percy.

"Sir Topham Hatt usually tells us who the visitors are.. Now that you mention it, he never did say anything about who it was." The little green engine added quietly. The shed was silent for a few moments before Gordon spoke up.

"I'm sure it means nothing. Perhaps he did say so and you just weren't paying attention." He hissed, still feeling a bit ill tempered about the whole business. "Gossiping about it is only going to keep us up when we have work to do tomorrow. So forget about it and go to sleep." With a huff, he closed his eyes. James glared at Gordon, irritated for the interruption. He really did enjoy some good gossip, and it would have been a nice diversion after a long day. Across the shed, Thomas and Percy had gone silent.. Except for a very quiet muttering of indeterminate origin, 'grumpy old sausage'. There was a short period of silence before suddenly,

"But.." It was Henry, and his voice was very quiet. "The way Charlotte looked at me.. I think she's here to purchase one of us."

Nobody seemed tired anymore.

"That can't be right, Sir Topham Hatt would never get rid of any of us. He only replaces engines that cause problems.. Or aren't useful." Percy squeaked, and Thomas made a small noise in agreement.

"Well we still don't know for sure. This is just sp.. Sp-peculation." Gordon managed to stutter.

"I guess we just have to wait and see..?" James muttered. Henry sighed a bit.

"Looks like that's going to be the case whether we like it or not." He added quietly. Thomas didn't like the sudden glum atmosphere in the shed and shifted his wheels- Percy did the same, then suddenly offered a cheerful,

"Well.. We might just be worrying about nothing; we all trust Sir Topham Hatt, right? He's never been unfair to anyone before." That seemed to lighten the mood just a bit, but even still, the subject was wholly avoided for the rest of the night.  
However the gossip didn't halt for long. It was near noontime, and Percy was taking a short break from shunting freight cars when he heard Sir Topham Hatt speaking to someone. Curious, he dared to reverse just a bit in order to glance over and.. Oh no. It was that woman, whatever her name was- Charlotte! It appeared as if Sir Topham Hatt were giving her a tour.  
Not wanting to be pointed out, he silently went back to work, trying to appear as busy as possible so they wouldn't bother him- besides, if he was a really useful engine, Sir Topham Hatt wouldn't sell him, to be sure. And he was right- the two of them only stayed for a few minutes, and paid Percy little mind as he went about his business. After they'd left, Percy finished up his work, then trundled off to visit Thomas. He found the small blue engine getting a drink just outside of a station.

"Thomas, I saw her!" He whispered loudly. "Sir Topham Hatt is giving her a tour." Thomas looked over in horror. Thomas's driver, who was inspecting his front buffers which he'd earlier complained of feeling 'wobbly', laughed at his expression.

"The way you two talk, one would assume she's some sort of witch." He said jokingly. Thomas and Percy were not soothed.

"Well of course she's not." Thomas puffed, in a very 'I knew that' sort of manner. Unruffled by the engine's sass, the driver climbed back in. "But last night Henry told us she might be here to take one of us away." Thomas finished, and Percy frowned.

"I like it here, I don't want to go." He nearly pouted, but both of their drivers exchanged a smile.

"What nonsense. You haven't even met her yet. Besides, why would Sir Topham Hatt sell such useful engines. The both of you are very important to Sodor." Percy's driver said, giving the little engine a reassuring pat. Thomas's driver did the same.

"Just don't let it bother you, we have work to do and I don't need you getting distracted." The man said. Thomas merely sniffed and glared straight ahead. He could see her on the platform and immediately as she turned her head in his direction, he seemed to find something on the ground much more interesting. However when he heard Sir Topham Hatt say,

"And this is Thomas-" Before he could get any further, Thomas and Percy simultaneously zoomed out of the station and went in opposite directions. Sir Topham Hatt was left with a somewhat astonished look on his face.

"Well that /was/ Thomas." Charlotte covered her mouth delicately with one gloved hand to stifle a giggle.

"Awfully fast little engines, the both of them. If I didn't know any better I would assume they're avoiding me."


	3. Truth

Meanwhile, on another part of the island, the rumor was spreading in a slow but steady fashion. It passed from Percy to the Brendam twins, and from there to Duck, and Duck brought it to the docks, where it passed to Salty.. And of course with his incredible knack for stories, anyone who caught whiff of it from Salty was alarmed.  
The truth remained that most if not all of the engines residing on Sodor were very happy with their respective places and didn't quite fancy the idea of being carted off to heaven knows where. Only Edward seemed to remain unperturbed.. Even going out of his way to greet the visitor in question.

"You know what they say~" He chuckled to his driver as the man inspected Edward to be sure he was ready to set off. "A rumor is just news getting ahead of itself." And so Edward set off, pleased to be out and about. It was a fine day to be outside and he smiled widely as he glided along the tracks, smoothly even in his old age. It was almost a disappointment to come to a stop, but his curiosity about the blonde woman in a wheelchair beside Sir Topham Hatt outweighed it immediately. As he pulled into the station, white, healthy puffs of steam whooshed out of him and he let loose a cheerful but polite whistle. Sir Topham Hatt seemed pleased to see Edward, and lead his guest over to greet him.

"Good afternoon Edward, you seem to be feeling well today." He began. "I'd like you to meet Ms. Charlotte Greaves. She owns a railway of her own on an island far from here." The woman smiled as her gaze roamed over Edward's frame thoughtfully.

"An archaic model, well upkept.. You must have many stories to tell, grandfather." She said gently, and Edward smiled warmly in return.

"That I have, if you'd like to know." He offered, but added quickly afterward, "Though I have a question first, if you don't mind." Charlotte blinked once and tilted her head a bit, curiously.

"And what would that be?" Her voice, though soft, seemed to permeate the general noise of the station with ease.

"A few of the other engines around here have been worried that you're here to take them away. So far I've had no answer to ease their unrest, it would be nice if I might have the chance to know what's really going on." Edward ventured mildly, and both Sir Topham Hatt and Charlotte Greaves exchanged a glance; Edward felt vaguely concerned about this. Charlotte was the one who spoke first.

"Well.. I /am/ here to browse.. However I wouldn't just take the first one that strikes my fancy.. Any decision, if indeed there is one, won't be made lightly and the engine in question has the opportunity to offer some input we might not have considered." She said. There was a pause and Edward looked away for a moment or two, taking his time to digest that information. By the expression he was presenting it was clear he wasn't entirely sure what to think, and Charlotte stared up at him silently, the corners of her mouth twitching a bit as if she weren't sure whether to smile or frown yet.

"I just didn't expect it is all, I suppose. I mean I know it's a part of life for us, moving from place to place as the need arises, proving our worth doing the work that would be nigh impossible for people alone; but it's just that we've all been here on Sodor for so long now, getting to know eachother.. I doubt I could even start to imagine anything different." Edward said resignedly. Sir Topham Hatt smiled.

"Don't worry Edward, Ms. Greaves and I decided early on that there would be no desicions made without full knowledge made public. And she expressly requested that furthermore, no desicions would be made unless all parties were in agreement.. Meaning that if she makes a choice, the chosen in question has the opportunity to decline, just as I may, if I feel that it is an unreasonable trade." He explained. Edward found this odd; in most cases they dan't a choice, it simply was or it wasn't. However he kept this to himself as Charlotte began to speak once again.

"For what it's worth, I /can/ always have my pick of new engines that have no home yet if I find no volunteers; but that just isn't as desirable to me. I prefer those who have some.. Er.. Life experience, so to speak. And speaking of life experience.." She glanced to the clock on the station wall. "I have twenty minutes until I have to go elsewhere. Might I be able to convince you to tell me a story or two before I leave?" She asked, and Sir Topham Hatt nodded to edward encouragingly.

"Yes please, Edward. It would be a wonderful way to pass the time." And so Edward, having settled with what he'd discovered, went on to recount some of the most exciting events of his early days when the world was a different place and the railways on Sodor were only beginning; but he paused when James pulled in with a few coaches full of passengers close behind. Charlotte's attention was immediately drawn to the bright red engine and she grinned.

"Beautiful choice of colour. He reminds me of Russell."

"Russell?" Sir Topham Hatt ased quizzically.

"Yes, Russell is one of mine. Dutiful but a bit too audacious." She replied, crossing her arms and looking back to Edward.

"Pardon me grandfather, I have many other engines to meet in a short time- you're an excellent storyteller. Definitely an afternoon well spent, if you ask me." She waved to him and he offered another cheerful 'toot!' in return before setting off back to his shed. 'Ms. Charlotte isn't bad at all,' He thought. 'she seemed perfectly reasonable. I think we could stand to give her a chance, at least.'  
But that evening in the sheds, though they didn't know it, they wouldn't have a choice. As that stood, the evening went on quite regularly as they all slunk home one by one. James appeared most pleased with himself.

"I like her- at least she's not so blind as to not appreciate how stunning I am." He purred vainly as he got settled in between Thomas and Henry. "She called me splendorously crimson, a treat for the eyes." He went on, and the others shared a moment to mutually puff or roll their eyes knowingly. They weren't going to hear the end of this until someone or something knocked James down a peg.

"But not a treat for the ears," Gordon complained, recieving a murmur of agreement. "I'd rather listen to Henry's incessant whistling." At this, Henry's eyes went half lidded and he gave Gordon a sidelong glance that suggested he was about to say something mean.

"Funny you should say that, Gordon. Because surely you would know; 'It isn't wrong, but we just don't do it'." He said impishly, and smirked when Gordon flushed brightly and grumbled something about 'not bringing that up again'... Though Thomas grinned anyway and whispered something to Percy, who snickered in return. But after they were finished bantering, when the sun had gone down and the lamps were lit, the idle eveningtime conversation took a turn for the more serious.

"I spoke to Edward this afternoon. He told me he'd been talking with this visitor. A Ms. Charlotte Greaves." Gordon huffed.

"Leave it to Edward to go poking his funnel into everybody's business." James muttered. "He has nothing better to do so he goes around sticking himself in where he doesn't belong." He didn't mean anything by it at all- he and Edward were often on quite good terms, but he was feeling a bit tart after Gordon's little quip and wanted to complain about something. Gordon ignored him and continued.

"He also told me that the assumption we made is partly correct. It seems that she's here to buy an engine. One who's willing to leave, that is."

"Well I'm not going." Thomas added promptly.

"Neither am I." Percy agreed.

"No." James muttered quietly, but it was nearly drowned out by Gordon,

"Absolutely not. I am perfectly satisfied with my line of work."

It took them a moment to realize that Henry hadn't agreed. In fact, he hadn't said anything for a while. All attention went to the green engine shortly and he glanced at them absentmindedly before blinking and stammering,

"O-oh, right, yes.. Uh, no." He blushed a bit. "I'm sorry, I just thought I heard a car." Which was an odd phenomenon indeed, seeing as most if not all of the men who had been around earlier had long since left. But nevertheless it proved to be true, as hardly a few moments later, an unfamiliar car pulled up near the shed. He was long and sleek and black, blending in with the night, and he purred smoothly as he came to a gentle stop. He cast the engines a seedy grin, to which he recieved a reply of suspicious glares. The glaring only intensified as he spoke.

"Good evening~." He sounded a little too much like a certain diesel engine who had been deported from the island on account of bad behaviour. Percy was about to say so but he shut his mouth immediately as the driver stepped out and went round to open the door in the back. Out stepped Sir Topham Hatt, and, after the driver retrieved a curious folding wheelchair from the trunk and set it up just outside the door, was followed by Ms. Charlotte Greaves. She patted the car and said something to it in a low tone as Sir Topham Hatt greeted his engines.

"I'm sure by now you all know of Ms. Greaves. She wanted to have the chance to meet you without disrupting your work." He tipped his hat politely to Charlotte as her attendant pushed her wheelchair over. Her smile was kind, but decisive, and as she spoke to the engines, the initial fear of her intentions began to dissipate.

But her car merely continued to smile. Because he knew better.


	4. Me?

The next few days went rather uneventfully. Charlotte had decided she was going to observe each of them at work before making any sort of decision; this, of course, caused some confusion.  
The problem arose that most just weren't sure whether to deliberately do their jobs incorrectly so she wouldn't want them, or do their absolute best so Sir Topham Hatt would want to keep them.. Thus leading to some interesting encounters. When Sir Topham Hatt was present, Percy puttered dutifully about, collecting cars and being polite about it. When Charlotte happened to be present, his demeanor took a flip right into downright unpleasant and generally clumsy. Purposely picking fights with the cars, he ended up bonking one right into a ditch and was reprimanded immediately by Sir Topham Hatt.  
Thomas's behaviour didn't change, but he purposely avoided anywhere Charlotte was.. Leading him to take long routes to keep a wide berth between her and himself, which only made him late.  
Gordon remained wholly unchanged, though Henry seemed nervous. Early in the day he'd begun feeling unwell- it was a wonder he'd even gotten out of the shed, but despite this he pushed himself as hard as he could to keep up with everyone else. And suffered for it. By the time he'd reached his third stop, he wasn't looking so hot. James was about to tease him for being so slow, but the words caught in his mouth when he saw the look on Henry's face.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Henry groaned in reply.

"I.. I don't know.. Something hurts." He muttered quietly. His driver exited the cab and walked round front, climbing up on the running board and patting Henry's side comfortingly.

"What's wrong old boy? You were doing fine just a minute ago." He waited for a reply but Henry only coughed, black smoke puffing from his mouth and funnel.. And continuing to pour out as he kept on coughing. After a moment or two, sooty water splurted from his mouth and nose, dripping down his front and he stopped coughing in favour of shutting his mouth tightly and going silent. James appeared extremely concerned by this, gasping a bit. He recovered himself quickly and swallowed hard.

"Should someone get Sir Topham Hatt..?" He asked, making a bit of a face. Henry's driver, who had leaned back so he wasn't splashed on by the black, watery discharge, pulled a rag from his pocket and began wiping down Henry's front hastily.

"Let me worry about that- you take Henry's cars." After the disturbance in the work schedule had been settled, Gordon was brought to tow Henry back to the shed where he could rest and get looked over. By that time he was feeling better, but to his dismay, he was joined by a familiar black car. Which among the engines, had, of course, become synonymous with,

"Afternoon Miss Greaves. What can I do for you?" One of the men inspecting Henry turned to greet her as she leaned over to peer out of the window of the car, smiling sweetly.

"Good afternoon. I've just finished speaking with Sir Topham Hatt. Henry, how would you like to come work for me?" Henry's driver, who was currently inspecting the firebox, paused, but said nothing, listening carefully. Henry too was quite suddenly all ears. "See, financially it makes good sense, as I have the means and funding to get you what you need to run correctly, as a proper engine should. And I'm in need of a tender engine." She paused for a minute, then leaned back in the car, folding her hands in her lap. Henry wasn't sure if he was more frightened or confused. Maybe equal parts of both.

"What do you think..?" Charlotte's voice drew his attention from thought, but before he could say anything -/if/ he could have said anything- his driver poked his head out of Henry's cab.

"Excuse me Miss, but it's been a long morning and I don't think anyone is in a position to be making any big decisions right now.. We'll talk about it, and let you know." He tipped his hat to her respectfully, and Charlotte smiled pleasantly.

"Very well. Think on it. It would disappoint me to see such potential gone to waste." She turned to motion for her attendant to drive, and they left immediately, the black car kicking up dust as it puttered off. Henry's driver paused to watch them go before he crossed the running board to the front, crouching there quietly for a minute before wiping a bit of soot from Henry's cheek delicately.

"Let's just focus on getting you patched up for now, hm?" He said, smiling, and Henry gave him a slight glance before venturing a crooked smile of his own and murmuring,

"Alright."

-

That evening the sheds were quiet, save for the sound of crickets chirping in the grass closeby. Thomas and Percy were bunking at the docks for the night- Edward and Duck had taken their places, and were settled in quite comfortably. There was always something very innately appealing about merely having a quiet moment to be with your friends; just sharing the silence was a wonderful way to wind down from the day. And that's exactly what they were doing.. Until Henry broke the silence.

"Charlotte chose me."


	5. Confession

The reaction to the news was a little underwhelming. No one seemed to have much to say about it, so Henry figured they were likely taking time to process the information and figure out /how/ to react to it; which was something he hadn't a problem with, because he was doing the exact same thing. Over the next few days, things continued on as they normally would have.. Almost. After receiving the news, Gordon seemed to want Henry's company more than ever. If Henry went somewhere, chances were Gordon was going there too- if he stopped to get a drink, Gordon needed one as well. They sat together in the shed at morning and at night, and at Knapford station in the afternoon. Henry wasn't sure why, but he was glad for it- the gesture itself didn't need any explaining. His friends would be there for him no matter what, and that gave him great comfort. After a little while James joined in on the act. It got to the point that they very nearly seemed to travel in a pack, side by side or single file along the same track as often as it was possible... Which was absolutely ridiculous and after numerous complaints, warranted Sir Topham Hatt's attention.

"This nonsense has to stop." He scolded, that evening at the sheds. "You're not joined at the buffers, you all have work to do separate times and separate places, and causing confusion and delay simply for the sake of being five feet from eachother at all times is unacceptable. Irregardless of the situation, I expect you all to work to the best of your ability. Tomorrow, I expect you three to do as you are supposed to."  
The big engines were embarassed and a little indignant at being called out on their behaviour, but agreed to stop. When Sir Topham Hatt was gone, James glared over at Thomas, who was smiling, almost a bit wistfully.

"What are you so happy about?" He grumbled ill temperedly. Thomas merely looked up in surprise, as did Percy, who was beside him and appeared to have been deep in thought.

"Huh? Oh, I wasn't happy that you were in trouble, it's just that I was talking with Skarloey today." He said mildly. Percy hummed a bit in agreement. James raised a brow, curious now; the little engines were acting strangely. Gordon and Henry noticed it too and pulled forward a bit to look over at them.

"About what?" James finally asked, and both Percy and Thomas exchanged a glance.

"Well.." Percy mumbled. "Skarloey is old. And he knows more than we do about a lot of things. We told him about Miss Greaves and he said we shouldn't be uh.. Too quick to judge the opportunity Henry's been given." Thomas continued for him.

"He said that when a friend is taken away, we're prone to getting so wound up on the fact that they're leaving that we forget to be happy for them. And he was right, I have been selfish by wanting Henry to stay without even thinking about what he wants.." Thomas paused, looking down, then up at Henry.

"So.. What /do/ you want..?" Suddenly all eyes were on Henry again and he winced a bit. He had to tell them sometime.

"I want to stay here on Sodor with you." He said softly, but there was a long pause after he said it. Everyone knew it was coming.

"But.. I just can't keep doing this. Staying here in the shed day after day, watching all of you go off and do things and get into trouble and have fun while I'm just.. Trapped." He offered feebly, but was met with none of the resistance he'd been expecting. No one could reproach him for wanting to be useful.  
Gordon in particular felt a twinge of shame as the comment he'd made a few days ago flew back into his funnel. 'As if you were useful to begin with- what engine can be useful when it keeps breaking down all the time.'

"This is my chance to be more and be better than I can here. Charlotte told me I could work a prestigious line, pulling specials that would go to people all over the world." The other engines were very impressed.

"I don't want you to miss out on this opportunity." James said softly.

"Yes, I'd rather you go be happy somewhere else than stay here and be unhappy just so we can have you around." Thomas agreed, and Percy smiled. Henry smiled a bit as well, then looked over to Gordon, who hadn't spoken in a while. The blue engine looked back over to Henry in return and sighed before managing a smile too.

"Then I suppose tomorrow I'll tell her." Henry murmured, and the rest of the evening was spent in quiet conversation.  
However when everyone else had gone to sleep, Gordon sat awake. Looking over to the green engine beside him, he paused a moment before whispering,

"Henry.. Henry..!" The green engine opened a sleepy eye.

"Mnhm.. Gordon? What is it..?" He asked, becoming slightly more alert at the nervous look on Gordon's face.

"I just- I wanted to apologize for being rude to you. I should have never said you weren't useful, it was wrong of me and-" He went quiet when Henry chuckled.

"Oh Gordon I'd forgotten all about that. But I forgive you." Gordon smiled softly.

"Thank you. Goodnight Henry."

"Goodnight Gordon."


	6. Departure

Charlotte was delighted to hear of Henry's decision when he told her the next day. She and Sir Topham Hatt immediately began making arrangements for transportation, payments, a lot of big words and phrases that Henry couldn't understand even if he tried. It was a bit intimidating, but exciting.. And though his crew was less pleased about the whole ordeal actually coming to fruition, they kept that piece of information to themselves so as not to sway Henry's decision for anyone's sake but his own.

The other engines of course did their best to be happy for him, and more time was spent enjoying each others company than bickering and bantering about silly things as they were most commonly prone to..

Working with Gordon, getting washed down with James, joking around with Thomas and Percy, and basking under the tepid glow of the sun with Edward. Long hours and lazy summer days marked the end of his time on Sodor, the last warm days of the year seeming to offer the best of their nostalgic flavour to see him off well. The time he spent with his friends became precious as the day of departure grew near and he began to spend many hours at the end of each day in the shed, talking with his crew and his friends.

And then the day came. The docks were crowded with engines and people who wanted to bid Sodor's big green engine a fond farewell. From early morning to afternoon, the docks were busy and while Henry was sad to be leaving the island he'd come to regard as home, he was very excited for the journey ahead. He was visited successively by a great many friends. At last arrived Percy, Thomas and James, all whistling hello in a deceptively cheerful manner. Gordon was soon to follow, after he'd finished his morning jobs. The five of them sat together quietly for a while amidst the hollering workmen; there wasn't much to be said, but James ventured to try.

"I can't believe you're really leaving.." He murmured, pulling closer. Henry looked up at him and smiled weakly.

"It's alright James." He paused before chuckling softly. "Whenever I see a red engine I'll think of you." James smiled softly but Percy looked slightly distressed.

"Will you think of me too, Henry?" He asked in a squeaky tone. Henry only smiled more, wishing he could pat the little green engine as he offered reassuringly,

"Yes of course I will. I'll think of all of you. And when I get to miss Greaves' railway, I'll talk to my new driver and see if he will send you letters every now and then for me." All the engines agreed this sounded like an excellent idea. It would take some of the harshness out of the loss.

"I'll be anticipating your first letter, I can't wait to hear all about your new home." Thomas said with a smile while Gordon came forward a bit so his and Henry's buffers touched lightly. Henry looked up quizzically.

"You'd better not forget about me, old squarewheels." Gordon offered with a vaguely impish grin and Henry chuckled.

"You don't need to worry about that, I never shall... Galloping sausage." He retorted and the five of them snickered quietly. Suddenly Edward pulled up right behind Percy and Thomas with a loud hiss, a cloud of steam enveloping him for a moment.

"Oh good I'm not too late. I was worried I would be." His cheeks were flushed brightly and Henry could only assume he'd been in a big hurry- definitely a bigger hurry than he should have been, considering his age. "I woke up far too early this morning so I took a nap; next thing I knew it was nine o'clock." He smiled in obvious relief and Henry laughed softly.

"I'm glad you're here Edward." The green tender engine sighed gently before they had a somber moment of mutual silence. When Edward finally spoke, he sounded tired.. Old. Not in the usual, subtle fashion. The look about him went deeper than that. Every gentle line, every little wrinkle seemed to say that Edward had seen better days, and that it was starting to catch up with him. He sighed as well, long and heavy.

"Oh Henry.. I remember when you first arrived on Sodor." He began, and Henry grinned knowingly.

"We've been together for so many years and we've come to know each other better than most. I know how much you've suffered.. It makes me more happy than I could ever express, knowing you have such a wonderful chance to make the most of your life. It's going to be lonely here without you.. But don't worry about us- we'll manage, to be sure." He paused for a moment and drew a bit closer. "You have a beautiful spirit Henry, and I know you'll make many friends, wherever life takes you. Even if we can't follow."

Henry smiled weakly but genuinely in return, but he didn't shed a tear until he was carefully loaded onto the ship and Thomas shouted from below,

"We love you Henry!" And after a series of calls from his friends and a none too graceful 'take care' from Cranky, Henry was secured on the ship..

And then he was gone.


	7. Kollsvik

The distant rumble of thunder, pounding on the periphery of his consciousness was what awoke Henry. His eyes flicked open and he tiredly surveyed the area directly in front of him, taking stock of his surroundings. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep, but it had to have been a while..

He was greeted back to the world by the soaked deck of a ship that had recently been sloshed with rain, the heavy footsteps of men scurrying to and fro, and the darkness of an early morning sky weighted down heavily with clouds, which he could just barely see from beneath the rippling hem of the dark green tarp that had been tied over him. Then he paused, focusing on a discernable blotch on the horizon. A landmass, it seemed; a landmass from which clouds of black smoke and strange blinking lights emanated. A landmass they were headed toward. It surely didn't look like a place on which a prestigious railway would be. It didn't really look like a place a railway of any respect would be. He mused that perhaps this wasn't his stop, and they were only going to pick something up- perhaps another engine?

Feeling a hint of trepidation, but wholly satisfied with his own explanation, he closed his eyes again and tried to relax. He didn't get to relax long though as a few minutes later, when the ship had docked, the tarp covering him was torn off and he was exposed to the heavy downpour of rain that had started up again. It was darker now, the sky nearly black with the combination of smog and clouds blocking out what feeble gray light the morning may have had to offer. Confused, he cast a quick, dazed glance around at what appeared to be an industrial docking area for cargo ships. It was easily five times the size of Sodor's Brendam docks. Down below both men and little tank engines alike scuttled around about their business in a chaotic fashion.. Yet even in the short time Henry was able to observe, despite many near-misses and almost-collisions, there was never an accident. He was interrupted from his thoughts by a bright light shining directly in his face, the white beam illuminating the drops of rain between the green engine and.. A crane. Henry squinted and groaned a bit as the crane, who was only a silhouette to him at the moment, cackled and turned away. Now that Henry wasn't being blinded he caught a glimpse of the dockyard crane's face, which fostered ridiculous grin, exposing the goofy gap between its front teeth.

Surprised to see what he had previously thought of as a universally bad tempered creature looking so uncharacteristically cheerful, Henry didn't notice that there was more than one until another bright light roved over the busy docks to meet him, pointing him out directly with a spotlight. He blinked, trying to get the dark spots out of his eyes from all the sudden flashing of headlamps. The two of them, twins it seemed, were positioned directly across from eachother, just far enough so that their hooks wouldn't tangle if they happened to be careless.. And with the playful look about them that promised mischievousness, he was sure that would have been a possibility.

Henry, who had only ever met one crane and hadn't imagined any others, could hardly believe what he saw.

"Oh-! Oh, Bartolf! Look at this." The one closest to Henry called over the general noise, his voice veiled with a thick accent of Russian origin. The twin called back from across the docks, but Henry couldn't hear him well. He caught something about a 'greenbean' and wrinkled his nose indignantly as the one nearest to him cackled again. They were obviously talking about him, and he wasn't sure he liked what they had to say.

"Da! Is jolly green giant!" Henry was about to say something is his own defense when he suddenly became aware that the workmen were preparing to unload him from the ship. Concerned, he attempted to capture their attention.

"W-wait.. Excuse me- I-.. W-wai-.." His feeble attempts at getting them to take notice of him went entirely unheard in the commotion and before he could protest, he was deftly unchained from the deck and placed onto an empty area on the rails below. A spotlight followed him and he winced again, temporarily blinded; but he didn't need to see to know it was one of those two pesky cranes, who apparently couldn't just mind their own business. It wasn't long before he felt his wheels make contact with the rails with a resounding clack that echoed in his boiler and almost made his teeth hurt.

"Gently now.." He muttered, settling down a bit; his perspective from down below on the dock was much different than it had been from the ship. Wet and gloomy, the place was rather intimidating, what with towering structures topped with flashing lights to warn ships coming in through the foggy weather, men shouting harshly over the thunder and clatter of rain upon engines and roofing alike, and ill tempered looking cars filled with cargo covered carefully with a tarp. Whatever it was appeared to be getting exported; and Henry was more confused than ever. Charlotte had never said anything about any sort of freight. She'd been adamant about a city and a busy schedule pulling passengers to and fro.

One would have thought that once his wheels were placed firmly on a pair of reliable rails, he would feel more comfortable. Perhaps even better equipped to handle whatever situation he seemed to have landed in.. But the situation proved itself otherwise quite promptly. As soon as he'd been set down, Henry garnered a good deal of attention that both unnerved and distracted him.

The little engines that were bunking together in a shed nearby watched him through the heavy rain with a weary but wide eyed gaze, their eyes catching the light that came from a lamppost directly beside the little shanty. Even when Henry met their gaze directly, it didn't falter- they didn't say hello, they didn't look away, and they didn't smile. They merely watched, and Henry suddenly longed for the company of the silly cranes again.

But the twin cranes were far too busy talking with one another and continued to chatter over his head as he began to worry deeply. Where was Charlotte? This definitely couldn't be right, there was no way this was where he was meant to end up-

"A-ahh!" He suddenly screeched in something halfway between horror and surprise, red flags going up in his head as the touch of unfamiliar, rough, human hands registered to him from inside his cab. Alarm consumed him. Not only was it unsafe for anyone not familiar with an engine to mess around with the controls, it was considered an extreme disrespect to do so without said engine's permission. The bond between an engine and the humans who handled them was an unspoken but important part of both of their lives, and Henry, who had only been handled by a select few who knew how he suffered and knew how to help, suddenly felt extremely violated in that regard.

"W-who's there!?" He asked tersely, his voice high pitched and squeaky. However he was cut off by a workman who shouted,

"Hey! Quiet down over there." Quite crossly. Unsure what he'd done to recieve such a reprimand, Henry merely blinked.. Perhaps the workman hadn't actually been talking to him?

"What..?" He ventured to ask, only for the man to shoot him a terribly icy glare.

"I said shut up. You deaf or somethin'?" The man hissed before he turned away to go about his business. Somewhat startled, Henry blinked again and fell silent, biting his lip and feeling quite chastised indeed..

Too afraid to try speaking again, he did his best to ignore the complete strangers in his cab, as their callous hands went about starting his fire and checking the controls. His gaze drifted, stopping when he met the gaze of another engine who had pulled up near him to get coupledup to some empty cars. It was a little gray tank engine with a round nose and a stumpy little funnel.. He looked a bit like Percy. Henry forced a tiny little smile, but the tank engine's eyes merely widened and he looked away, puttering off as quickly as he could, apparently pretending he hadn't noticed. Henry was rather put off by this behaviour, but he didn't have much time to muse on it, for by this time his fire was going nicely and he was ready to go. However that didn't mean he wanted to and he offered a bit of resistance as he was forced forward. A sudden rough smack to the side of his cab, coupled by a firm shout from one of the men inside was enough to startle him into submission and he jerked forward, bumping into a line of cars that had presumably been lined up for him. The freight cars groaned and hissed at him angrily- the rain made them cranky enough, it was merely icing on the cake of annoyance to have some clueless new engine bumping them around. However Henry was quickly coupled up to them with little fuss; and without even so much as a cursory 'welcome to the railway', they were off to work for the day, the crane twins calling goodbye to the 'jolly green giant' as he puffed away from the ship that had brought him here, away from everything he knew, and toward a place he'd never imagined he'd end up. As he reached the end of the docks where it met the land and the tracks branched off in many directions, he looked up at a huge sign, lit brightly so that it stood out in stark contrast to the dim light of the cloudy morning sky.

It read, "EAST KOLLSVIK DOCKS".

And as he passed under that sign and started out over a cold, bleak landscape drenched with rain, deep in his boiler, Henry had the feeling that something was very, very wrong.


	8. Russell

By the end of that miserable day, Henry was dirty, hot, tired, and aching from dome to wheels. Feeling quite sorry for himself indeed, it was merely insult to injury when he was ever so suddenly sprayed down with smelly water in an unceremonious fashion by a railway worker. The man took no mind of Henry's spluttering and feeble attempts to protest. He merely finished his work and left without even so much as cursory hello or goodbye.. He didn't even take enough care to dry him off! Letting out an exhausted and ultimately defeated puff of steam, he sank onto the rails, which felt harder than ever on his tired wheels. He was broken from his reverie when a small, gentle voice gingerly addressed him.

"Hello.." Henry opened his eyes and looked over to see a small, stout little red and gold tank engine that had pulled up beside him. The red engine's driver had hopped out to go get a bucket or two of water for his tank so he wasn't present to reprimand him for speaking. It seemed that unlike Henry, whose work was finished for the day, this little engine had more to do as he pulled a line of cars behind him.. More than he ought to for an engine of his diminutive size. But even despite the dirty, tired and used look about him, he was anything but defeated. The spry, cheerful look in his eyes, coupled with his tentative smile was more than enough to let anyone know he still had some spunk left in him.  
Henry was confused. How could this little red engine find joy in anything here? He thought him mighty silly for it. All there was here were cranky cars, dirty cargo, sooty, tired engines and a smoggy sky. He hadn't seen a single glimpse of the sky since he had arrived. In fact, so put off by the little engine's statement, he could hardly think of anything to say in return. He merely glared over at him sourly. This didn't seem to deter the red engine at all and he only looked down, still smiling a bit.

"The first day is hardest for everyone. It was for me too, but it's not always so bad, really. In fact, you almost get used to it after a while." Henry was about to ask him what in the world he was talking about, but he paused when the red engine's driver shouted at him from across the station to 'Pipe down over there!'  
Henry cast a subtle glance in the driver's direction, then looked back over to the red engine.. A little less crossly than before. This tank engine seemed to know something.. But most of all he understood how Henry felt. The red engine smiled reassuringly and whispered lowly,

"We can talk later.." before his driver returned, dumped a couple buckets of water into his tank and they puttered away, his little wheels straining to pull the weight of the many many cars lined up behind him.  
Henry watched him leave, then slunk back to the large warehouse where the engines rested for the night. They had little privacy, cramped together with barely four feet of space between each of them, but luckily most of them were so tired by the time they returned to the warehouse that they fell asleep almost immediately. And while being surrounded by sleeping engines was comparatively lonely and only served to remind Henry of all those peaceful nights in the shed with his friends, it didn't seem quite as crowded as it would have if they had been awake. Still, he had the thought that he was merely here by mistake and that the administrator would be along to rescue him as soon as she found out her new engine was misplaced. Using this idea as a security blanket, he waited quietly.  
He didn't suffer the silence long though, as a familiar red engine pulled up to the turntable sluggishly, waiting as he was directed to the track that led into the spot right next to Henry. After slowly backing in, his driver left, presumably to go home. Alone at last, the red engine smiled up at Henry. He looked even dirtier than ever.. Henry started to wonder if any of these engines ever received a real washdown- he was /hardly/ willing to count that crude soaking he'd received as a bath. The little engine sighed heavily.

"Finally some peace and quiet, it'll be easier to talk he-" His comment was negated almost immediately as he paused to wince at the sound of a loud thud in the distance, the hissing of steam and loud shouting. The little engine blushed a bit but paused only briefly before continuing where he'd left off.

"Here.. My name's Russell- what's yours?" He asked. Henry looked down at him, taking offhanded note of Russell's light accent.

"Henry.. I.. I don't know what's going on, I was told that I was to be pulling coaches on a track in the city.." Were he not so tired, he might not have been able to keep his voice from quivering. "There must be some mistake, I'm n.. Not supposed to be here.." He trailed off as Russell gave him a sympathetic glance.. And Henry immediately felt uncomfortable- something /definitely/ wasn't right; this was immediately affirmed by Russell.

"Yes, that's how she lures them in.. Them being us. Most of the engines here are the rejects of railways worldwide. They're brought here, most of them on their last wheel, so to speak- the administrator has them repaired as cheaply as possible and they work until they can't work anymore." His voice grew quiet; he'd clearly seen this cycle happen in its brutal entirety many many times. "But, then there are a few.. A few perfectly useful engines who are promised the job of their dreams by a wealthy, charismatic stranger. Most of them know nothing about the treachery of the world outside their own railways and fall easily into the trap." Henry felt cold, even though the air was musty and warm.

".. Oh no- how could-.. Oh, I'm so stupid.." He felt as if he were atop a pool of mud that was slowly swallowing him, as opposed to secure train tracks, and forlornly wished he had never left Sodor. He wished he'd never let that horrible woman entice him the way she had. He wished he'd have seen how lucky he was to have such a benevolent owner. He wished he was back home in his cozy shed with his friends. This was just horrid.

"Oh, we are both, so stupid." Russell replied sullenly, giving Henry a melancholy smile. Henry looked up at him, realizing very suddenly that Russell had met the same exact fate- while Russell was dirty, worn and tired, there was no denying the gleam of his red paint that had, not /too/ long ago been lovingly restored by caring hands the likes of which were not to be found here.

"I'm sorry.." Henry offered quietly, but Russell shrugged it off with a slight eye roll.

"Don't be, it was my own foolishness that got me here. And I've learned that sulking about it isn't going to help anything. Just.. Have to make the best of it. There are some really amazing engines in this place, if you ever get the chance to meet them. It's the bad situations that can bring out the best in us." He smiled in a cheerful manner that Henry almost envied. Where did he get all of that baseless hope? "I can help you learn the tricks of the trade, so to speak-" He went silent immediately as a man suddenly came into the warehouse yard, shouting loudly to someone across the station.

"This shed's full, I'm shuttin' it up for the night!" There was a shouted reply, but neither Henry nor Russell could understand it. They both remained still and silent, pretending to be asleep as the man walked along in front of the huge structure in which the engines were resting. As he passed by each individual door he slammed it shut and locked it deftly, shutting them in for the night. Inside the closed warehouse it was almost completely black, with only a few streams of dusty light from the dim, flickering lampposts outside filtering in through the cracks in the walls. Henry was afraid- it reminded him too much of the tunnel he'd been trapped in for being selfish.

"Russell..?" He whispered.

"... I'm here." Came the smaller engine's soft reply. Henry was relieved to hear his voice. "I guess this is lesson number one.. That being, they don't like us to talk.. The administrator doesn't even trust us as far as she could throw us.. Which is not at all; she always thinks that whenever we talk, we're plotting something, so keep your voice down around the workers and never, /ever/ speak to the administrator directly.. Only if she specifically asks you a question. Be blunt but polite, and if you want to be on her good side, keep what you say down to five words at most when you can. And always call her ma'am, nothing else."  
Henry was thankful for the advice.

"Alright.. But.." He wasn't sure if he should ask such a question, but it popped out anyway. "Just.. Why is she doing this..? Why does she hate us so much?" Henry thought briefly of the administrator- when he'd first met her at the station in Sodor she simply seemed like a lovely woman with a fascination for locomotives.. Was that all merely a facade? Had she really successfully duped them all into thinking she was trustworthy and kind, when her true colours were dark and cruel? It was nearly unthinkable but the more he pondered it, the more true it seemed.

"Some say it's because she was run over by a train, and was robbed of her ability to walk." Russell replied. "And she was so bitter about it that she wants to take it out on us.. But that's just a rumor. The only thing we really know is that she makes a lot of money off of her business, and uses it to buy more junkers ready for scrap.. And, of course, unsuspecting engines like us." Russell's confidence seemed to falter at this, and Henry could understand why. The administrator had money at her disposal, readily used it to carry on this awful business, and there was absolutely nothing they could do to stop her.

"It's more expensive to be sure; I think she does it because she knows it's hitting us where it hurts. But, of course, she also needs reliable, well-working engines to keep the railway running smoothly.." He paused to yawn, unable to hold it in. "Irregardless.. We'd better get some rest before tomorrow.. We get one day off for scheduled maintenance every month, and only if we do our work as efficiently as possible." Russell said quietly. A moment or two later he added, "Goodnight, Henry."

Henry felt something akin to comfort; It was good to have a friend in such a dark place.. But Russell could not have said goodnight at a better time, for already Henry's eyes were closing; as wonderful as it was to have someone to talk to, he just couldn't stay awake any longer. He managed a slurred, "Goodnight, Russell." before he fell asleep.


	9. Gray

The next morning Henry awoke with a start at the sound of clanging metal. This was closely followed by bright light that suddenly flooded into the shed through the doors that were being pounded on with a wrench and thrown open in succession. It was a different man today, and though he did his work with unfeeling efficiency, he didn't seem as cranky as the others did. He cast Henry a glance as he walked past after throwing the door open, clearly taking notice that he was new, but moving on quickly to finish his job.  
There was a general discontented grumbling from the sleepy, disgruntled engines as they were forced to wake up and get going. One by one they cleared the shed until it was just Russell, Henry, and three others who had yet to be attended by their respective crews. When no one was paying attention, Henry looked over to Russell and sighed softly.

"I don't suppose it would be too awfully fitting to say 'good morning'." They exchanged a glance and both smirked wryly.

"Just 'morning', then." Russell replied simply. They sat in silence for a while as the drivers of two of the others arrived, and started going about their business. Henry watched them absently for a little while before looking back over to Russell.

"Russell, I'm curious.." He started quietly. The smaller engine looked up at him quizzically, and Henry took this as an invitation to continue. "Why are so many of the engines here painted gray?" It was true. He'd noticed it but it just hadn't occured to him until now that it wasn't exactly normal. There was hardly any colour anywhere- a few such as himself and Russell retained their original paintjobs, but the majority seemed to be smeared with an ugly, colourless dark gray, with numbers painted in black. It was hard to tell them apart in a group.  
Russell looked solemn, glancing at Henry then down at the ground.

"It's a punishment." He said quietly, keeping his voice low as a man walked by a couple yards away. "I can't think of a single engine I've ever known who wasn't proud of their colours. Can you?"

"No."

"Exactly. The Administrator is relentless. If it isn't a physical burden, it's a psyc-psychosp-sp.. M-mental one. That's how she breaks you. Have you ever looked around at these engines? Look in their eyes, you can see it- lifeless, broken. Some of them couldn't even pick them/selves/ out of a crowd, let alone anyone else." Russell murmured lowly. Henry felt a bit weak but said nothing. "If you make a mistake she feels is inappropriate, she takes away your colour. Inappropriate mistakes are the ones that include anything to do with your individuality. Talking when you oughtn't, messing up without the fault expressly being your driver's; even making expressions she feels are inappropriate will be your own undoing." He finished. Henry was appalled, but said nothing, keeping his mouth shut even tighter now as a man passed by to go tend to one of the engines that was still in the shed with them. Henry looked closely at the engine as the man walked about, getting it ready for the day.

It was silent.

It was gray.

And its eyes were lifeless.


	10. Elbmá

It was later in the day that Henry and Russell met up again, both covered in soot from dome to coupling rods, and to make matters worse, Henry had taken to coughing. Every now and then he'd hack up a cloud of black smoke that stained his front in unattractive streams and left a dark colour on his lips and down his chin. It was terribly unsightly and he was beginning to hope for another crude washdown, even though it would be cold and smelly and unpleasant. Better than looking ready for the scrap heap.. Which could be potentially dangerous in this place, given the fact that most of the freight getting carted around was scrap metal.  
When Russell pulled up next to him near the water tower, they exchanged looks. Russell gave Henry a little encouraging smile, but that did nothing to lighten the larger engine's terrible mood. As soon as the nearest workmen were far enough away for them to talk safely, Henry promptly hissed,

"I can't take this anymore, that hhhorrid horrid man is just.. I just.. Ugh!" Utterly disgusted, he only wound up working himself into a small bout of coughing. Russell reversed just a bit to dodge the smoky discharge and sighed.

"I know. Some of the men and women working here are just as horrible as the Administrator is. You just have to learn how to work with them.. Just like they learn how to work with you." Russell offered quietly, but Henry didn't seem fully placated.

"I can't stand it, that he's in there all day just, handling me like that. I don't like him and I don't trust him and if he points another finger at me all accusingly as he does when I can't get going in the morning, I'll bite it, I'll bite it off." Henry grumbled, and was surprised to see Russell giggle silently.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's just that I know exactly how you feel. It's not funny but it helps to laugh anyway." He said apologetically, and after a few moments of stunned silence, Henry was fighting back a wry sort of grin as well.. He was surprised to find that it felt exceedingly strange to smile. The short time he'd spent on Kollsvik had already pounded it into his head that to smile was not normal. To laugh was vulgar. Joy was.. Odd. Foreign. And that truth was more frightening than anything else Kollsvik had to offer.  
More than ever he wanted to be near Russell- the little red engine had an undefeatable happiness in him, a candle in the dark and Henry needed its feeble light. He was dismayed to see Russell's driver coming back over. Russell read his gaze and sighed softly.

"Just hang in there.. We can talk more tonight." They then parted ways, Russell heading off toward the docks. It was about four hours' worth of a journey from the sheds, so Henry knew Russell wouldn't be back until late. As he watched the little red engine putter away, he sighed heavily.

"Well at least it can't get any worse." But Henry was wrong; it could get worse. And it did.

So far, he'd only seen the island working at its very best, and while Russell had told him of the brutal conclusion they would all eventually face, he found that he had never truly understood it until he saw it happen.. It was later on that same day, and he was waiting at the large covered station known as "Elbmá". The clouds that had been gathering overnight now formed a dark blanket that cast the island in shadow. The occasional clap of distant thunder was a forboding promise of rain to come, and Henry was glad for the shelter the station provided.  
As he waited silently for a small blue tank engine to shunt a train of empty freight cars together for him, his fireman tried to build the flame in his firebox up to a more satisfactory size. Henry, despite hearing the man's cursing and general hatred of his decidedly unsatisfactory firebox, knew better than to provide any commentary, however helpful it might prove to be. The blue engine gave him a sympathetic glance as she passed with a few sleepy cars, wincing when Henry flinched at a loud clang which sounded a lot like a leather boot against metal. It grew quiet for a while after that.  
And that was when a commotion a few rails over drew his attention. An orange engine, so covered in soot and grime that he appeared almost brown, was struggling with a line of heavy cars. His wheels scraped and skidded on the tracks as he tried his hardest to move forward; but as soon as he started moving, there was a loud grinding snap and the engine shrieked in pain. Henry gasped, dying to go over and make sure he was alright- but he knew better.  
Biting his lip and cringing inwardly, he merely observed as the engine's crew stepped out to inspect the damage and determine whether or not it was a quick, easy fix.. But their grim expressions as they spoke quietly with eachother let Henry know it wasn't. It was only a minute or so before they were joined by the Administrator and two of her aides... She did not look pleased.  
The engine blinked away tears, assuming as calm and blank of an expression as possible as the woman spoke sternly to him.

"Useful engines are the only ones who belong on my railway. Now move." She looked on relentlessly as the poor creature struggled, tears streaming down his face and leaving stripes where they'd washed away the soot. Smoke poured from him as his wheels turned worthlessly against the rails to no avail, and bystanding workers coughed; but Charlotte merely observed in unperturbed silence as there was another snap and the engine let out a cry.. He knew this was the end.  
Tears gathered in Henry's eyes as he helplessly watched, unable to do anything to stop the orange engine's torture. Finally the engine stopped struggling, sinking onto his wheels in utter defeat.

"I can't..." He said, sobbing silently. There was hardly a moment's worth of silence before the administrator spoke.

"Scrap." She said coldly. The engine sobbed again, audibly this time, and Henry's insides felt icier than winter even in spite of his now blazing firebox. That night he slunk back to the sheds, feeling more old, tired and downright exhausted, inside and out, than he could ever remember being close to feeling. Russell joined him later, pulling in solemnly and sitting there quietly for a minute as his crew left him. When they had gone, he looked down at the ground before murmuring,

"I heard. I was still at the docks when it happened.." He knew Henry would know what he was talking about. Despite the ban on public speaking, news traveled fast when the administrator's far seeing gaze was focused elsewhere.

"I knew Rene was struggling.. I just didn't know he was so far along." Russell's voice quivered and Henry looked over at him in surprise. A few tears had made their way down the little engine's dirty face, leaving small streaks.

"You.. You knew him?" Henry asked. Russell looked up, his expression speaking more volumes than his words ever could, and Henry's heart broke.

"Rene was my first friend here.. We arrived at the same time and met at the docks. I always hoped that somehow, we would be able to make it together, against the odds but.." At this point Russell's voice cracked and he shut his eyes tightly. The rest of the night was spent in silence, but Henry could hear him in the dark.  
Crying quietly.


	11. Adolf

It was later in the night that Henry awoke, blinking a few times and tiredly glancing around. It was very dark in the shed save for a few silvery threads of light from the lampposts outside filtering in through the cracks in the walls.. And relatively quiet outside, so he knew it wasn't quite time to wake up just yet. As that was, he had every intention of going right back to sleep, and settled down sleepily.  
But a sudden noise from outside made his eyes snap right back open again. A long, eerie whistle in the distance sent a tremor through him. Like the keening wail of a ghost it split the cold night air and rose to its quavering peak, declining steadily only to be replaced by the thundering sound of a big engine working its hardest. Henry, while intimidated, was curious about this- all of the engines he'd seen so far were only little ones; generally tank engines and small tender engines that would only just barely measure up to Edward or James. But the noise this engine made as it passed by outside was unlike anything Henry had ever heard. Looking over to Russell, he wished the little engine were awake to provide some sort of commentary or insight.. But it didn't seem that the noise had perturbed him, or any other engine for that matter. Everyone else seemed to remain sound asleep.. And once the noise had subsided and his thoughts had settled, Henry was too.

The next day, it rained. Hard. The droplets pounded down on the roof of the shed but not a single engine sleeping inside could be bothered to care; or notice. Russell was still dozing quietly beside Henry when the big engine's driver roused him by tossing a rag in his face.

"Up, we're out early today. You've got a special to pull." Henry, spluttering and wriggling his nose to get the sticky, blackened rag off, couldn't help but wonder what sort of 'special' there could possibly be on Kollsvik. Nothing was special here, so to him it almost seemed kind of mocking. Nevertheless, he had no say in the matter and it wasn't long before they were off to Elbmá where his 'special' was waiting. He was aghast at what it was.  
Rene. Chained down to a truck and covered over with a shoddy gray tarp, the poor broken engine waited to be carted off to his untimely demise. By Henry. Much to his horror, the green tender engine was pulled up to the truck and coupled to it by the front so he and Rene were face to face.. He could see the defeated look of acceptance in Rene's eyes and it struck him deeply. This wasn't right; there was absolutely no justice, no fairness, or even /decency/ in this. What Charlotte expected him to do to another engine, Russell's friend no less- it was more than disgraceful, disgusting, or despicable. And hardly ten feet out of the station he let everyone know exactly what he thought as he locked up stubbornly and refused to move. Rene looked around with surprise, half expecting to see the administrator around somewhere. Why else would they come to an unannounced halt? Unless..

"No." Henry stated, letting off an angry jet of steam as his crew came around front to see what the problem was. Rene looked up to Henry in something of a mix between admiration and dismay. He was sure the tender engine must have been out of his mind to do something so bold.

"What did you just sa-" He started in a soft, timid voice, but was cut off when Henry's driver came around front and shouted,

"What's the big idea? Get your ass moving now or we're all going to lose our jobs." But the green engine stayed silent and resolute, unwilling to budge a single inch. His crew attempted to berate him for his behaviour, and when that failed they attempted to reason with him, but his stony resolve outmatched their fury and persuasion. Finally another engine was brought to try and push him but it was no use- Henry clung firmly to his spot on the rails. It was clear the workmen had never been in such a situation before, and they began speaking together in hushed tones. A few minutes later the little engine that was brought to push Henry scurried away, soon replaced by Jimmy, who had a dark, knowing grin on his face. His grin only widened as Charlotte was helped from the car by one of her aides and pushed over as close as her wheelchair could get to Henry. She looked displeased.

"Why have you stopped." She asked simply, folding her hands in her lap and looking up at Henry with her sharp green gaze. He looked down in return at the wheelchair bound woman; though she was diminuitive in stature, it merely belied her true persona.. Vindictive, hateful, the none-too-benevolent goddess of her little world. She looked up at him, pried him apart under her gaze, saw through his resolve and knew. She /knew/ that she owned him. And upon realizing this, Henry faltered, because he knew it too.

"I.. I-I'm not going to do this." He choked out, but it was too forced to possibly be the product of true defiance and he could tell it was painfully obvious to Charlotte, who narrowed her eyes.

"Yes you are. This is your job, you do it." She said, and though her expression didn't change, her voice grew stiff and her hands tightened on the blanket that covered her lap. Rene was terrified, letting out a hushed whimper before whispering almost silently,

"Just do what she says. Please.." He glanced from Henry to Charlotte, then winced as the woman hissed,

"Move." Henry felt a twinge of urgency in his boiler- he felt compelled to do what she said but he remained frozen. Why, he wasn't sure. Not anymore.. Yet he stayed absolutely put, and though Charlotte waited for a minute, tense and angry, she finally leaned back, her grip going lax and eyes half lidded. "Very well." She motioned for her aide to take her back to her car, and they were off. Henry was still on edge, confused by this turn of events- but Rene knew that the only things to come of this would be exceedingly bad. Desperately he appealed to Henry.

"Please do what they want.. Don't throw yourself away, think about Russell..! I know you're his new friend, don't do this to him he can't lose us both.." A tear slid down Rene's cheek but was lost in the rain. "He needs you; if not for anything else, surrender for him.. Please." The green tender engine looked at Rene, then shut his eyes tightly.

"I-.. I'll go-" He was immediately cut off by a long, eerie whistle from somewhere far behind him and again, a tremor went through him. He immediately opened his eyes to see Rene trembling.

"What..?" He asked, a bit alarmed. Rene whimpered again and whispered,

"Adolf.." Even as he said it Henry could hear the heavy pounding of machinery on the rails as something raced toward him through the rain. A bright spotlight was cast upon him from behind and he began to feel the vibration given off by the approaching locomotive, which by what he could hear was giving no signs of slowing. The workmen all fled the scene quickly, scattering like startled rabbits and Henry only just had time to stammer,

"I'll do it, I'll go, just- no-!" Before he found his pleas morphing into a short cry of pain and fear as the huge engine plowed into him from behind with a horrific crash, knocking him up against the truck and forcing him forward violently. The wheels of his tender left the rails briefly before clanging back down, and for a split second Henry couldn't breathe; Rene's shriek of fear only barely registered to him. He fought to regain the breath he'd lost as the behemoth behind him continued pushing him forward with merciless brute force, slowing only for a moment to let Henry and his truck roll forward a bit.. But the huge black engine was far from done with him.

"Please, no, d-don't.." Henry sobbed, but the powerful sound of the black engine's wheels turning against the rails as it came for him again drowned him out, his sobs turning to cries of pain once more as he was charged into a second time with a loud crash. However the black engine didn't stop this time, merely continuing to shove Henry and his cargo along the track toward his intended destination- the scrapyards.


End file.
